


Daze

by quiettoxic



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Choking, Consensual, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Gangbang, Hetalia Kink Meme, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3595011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiettoxic/pseuds/quiettoxic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fantasy of Norway's comes true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daze

**Author's Note:**

> ????????????????????????????////
> 
> No but anyway. Uh. I thought I had reached my height with the Nordic 5 orgy thing, but I apparently like putting Norway in this position. *sigh*  
> I swear I've written normal things for the kink meme too.  
> [Here's](http://hetalia-kink.dreamwidth.org/84699.html?thread=513544667#cmt513544667) the prompt, if you were interested. (There's a really lame omake to be found there. And posting fail.)  
> Romania is my favorite part of this. I need to write more Romania.  
> Oh yeah, this one is titled after the Poets of the Fall song of the same name. Naming things after songs by my favorite artists is apparently going to be my trademark. Convenient, since I'm awful at thinking of original titles myself.

  
Contrary to popular belief, Norway rarely regretted telling Denmark anything. The Dane knew how to keep a secret, when it came down to it – and if he did share anything without Norway’s prior consent, it was almost always with Iceland, and Norway didn’t mind that either.  
   
So he thought nothing of it when he shared one of his most persistent sexual fantasies with Denmark, who would undoubtedly tell Iceland this, because god knows Iceland was kinkier than he let on, and the both of them loved indulging Norway. He wasn’t expecting them to _do_ anything about it, though, so he was surprised when, on a lazy afternoon following a Nordic meeting, Denmark came up to him with a smile bordering on bashful and sat down close to his side without a clear goal.  
   
Norway glanced at his leg. It was bouncing, which meant that he was excited about something. They sat in silence for a while, until Denmark burst out,  
   
“So?”  
   
“So, what?” Norway asked, never one to give in quickly. He laid a hand on Denmark’s leg to still it.  
   
“Aren’t ya going to ask me what I wanna say?”  
   
“I don’t know. Is it worth my time?”  
   
Denmark bit his own lower lip to keep his grin down. “Nor, if this ain’t worth your time, nothin’s worth your time, believe me.”  
   
That caught his attention. Norway turned on the couch, folding his right leg underneath his body, to look at the other man. He raised an eyebrow. “Well then. Hit me with it.”  
   
“Okay, so remember what ya said about that fantasy you had?” He leaned into Norway’s space a little more, the spicy scent of his aftershave almost overpowering. “The one where you’re bein’ dominated by a group?”  
   
How could he forget? Norway had been thinking about that for a while now. “Yes?”  
   
“Yeah, I did, too. So I talked with Ice about it, and we thought that, if you’re alright with it, we could try to make it come true.” He tilted his head, raising his eyebrows in question. “What d’ya think?”  
   
Norway’s fingers clenched into Denmark’s jeans of their own accord, and the Dane put his own hand overtop them.  
   
“I mean, if ya want it to stay a fantasy, that’s alright by—”  
   
“No. Yes.” Norway shook his hair out of his eye. “I don’t want it to stay a fantasy, I’m just— Surprised.”  
   
Denmark grinned. “Good surprised, right?” When Norway nodded, he continued, “Thought so. We just wanted to ask ya first, ‘course. Is there, uhm… Is there anything in particular we should be lookin’ out for?”  
   
He thought about it. In his mind, there were never any names or faces, just the awareness that they were all nations. “I know one thing,” he answered, eventually.  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“No Sweden or Finland.”  
   
“Right! Noted! I’m gonna text Iceland now, if ya don’t mind. I think we got a lot of work to do.”  
   
Yes, Norway supposed they did.  
   
“If there’s anythin’ else, let us know, alright? If ya change your mind—”  
   
“Of course,” Norway said. Honestly, if there was anyone he’d trust with this, it was Denmark and Iceland, so he doubted he would need to interfere.  
   
Denmark got up from the couch, already starting to peel his phone out of his pocket to text Iceland, who was by now on a plane back to his house and wouldn’t be able to answer. Norway snagged a finger into a belt loop and pulled him back to kiss him soundly.  
   
“You’re welcome,” Denmark said when he pulled away, which meant that he understood Norway better than Norway understood himself sometimes.  
 

* * *

    
Over the course of the next two months, Norway pretended not to notice how Denmark and Iceland tended to stick together more than before, or just how much they were texting if they weren’t. Somewhere at the end of the first month, it sank in that it was _really going to happen_. Something he’d been fantasizing about for – he didn’t know how long, exactly, but several decades – was going to happen, because Denmark and Iceland decided it should. It was bizarre, and he could hardly wait. He didn’t try to find out who they were trying to get in on it, curious though he was.  
   
On a Thursday spent running errands for his boss, he got an excited phone call from Denmark, asking if he had time that Saturday.  
   
“You’re a little late with asking, don’t you think?” Norway asked.  
   
“It’s so not my fault this time! Ice had to settle something! Do ya have time or not?”  
   
“I’m free,” Norway confirmed, and they went over the time and place – Denmark’s house – but then his boss burst into the office, and he had to hang up because some things were _private_.  
   
Friday went by slowly. Finland called to rave about his favorite band’s new album, but Norway didn’t really pay attention. He didn’t think Finland noticed.  
   
On Saturday, it was cloudy but not cold, and there was nervous excitement swirling around in Norway’s stomach. Iceland opened the door of Denmark’s house, and the emotion was reflected in his eyes. Norway smiled at him. Some of the nervousness settled.  
   
Denmark appeared in the hallway as well, grinning brightly.  
   
“Heya! Come on in.”  
   
Iceland took his coat, and Norway noticed he was biting his lip, so he leaned over to kiss him. Some more of the nervousness subsided when he felt Iceland quirk a smile against his mouth and his thin fingers brush through his hair.  
   
Denmark was bouncing on the balls of his feet when they pulled apart. He reached out to put a hand on Norway’s shoulder, eyes shining.  
   
“Ya ready, Nor?”  
   
“As I’ll ever be.”  
   
“Awesome.” He pulled him close to press a kiss to his lips as well, but it didn’t last long. He started tugging Norway to the living room.  
   
“Den, it’s not a race,” Iceland said, even as he followed them.  
   
Denmark laughed and let go of Norway to open the door, but he stopped before they could enter, suddenly eyeing Norway seriously.  
   
“Nor, any time ya feel uncomfortable—”  
   
“I think he understands it,” Iceland interrupted. “And I’m pretty sure Belgium has a speech about consent planned.”  
   
Belgium? Oh, a woman. _Yes_. Norway liked this so far.  
   
“Don’t spoil the surprise, Ice!” He looked contemplative for a second. Norway glanced at Iceland, and they wordlessly pushed Denmark over the threshold before he could start to rap.  
   
Several heads turned their way.  
   
“Norway!” a deep voice greeted. “I thought Denmark and Iceland had stolen ya, man.”  
   
Norway inclined his head in the man’s direction. “The chances they would get away with that are very slim, Turkey.”  
   
To his left, Romania chuckled. He was sitting stiffly on Denmark’s couch, but had a gleam in his eyes that was usually reserved for trying out particularly dangerous magic tricks. Next to him, Belgium’s smile was at once reassuring and lewd. Then there was Turkey, lounging like he owned the place, then an amused Australia, and on the chair that Norway usually claimed, sat, to Norway’s great surprise, a fidgety Hong Kong. He smiled vaguely when he caught Norway’s eye.  
   
“So!” Denmark said from behind him. “Are there any objections? Speak now or forever hold your peace. Goin’ once, goin’ twice.”  
   
Norway had no objections at all, and he trusted that all those people were here out of their own free will and not because Denmark – or more likely Iceland, in Hong Kong’s case – forced them to. He was curious why they agreed, but there were more pressing matters at hand now. Like his nervousness that was starting to turn into creeping arousal.  
   
“Sold, I guess. Bel, Ice says you got a speech?”  
   
She laughed. “Well, speech is a big word. It’s more that I want to make sure we’re all on the same page with this, hm? Concerning safety and all that.”  
   
She looked at Norway. He nodded.  
   
“Okay, wonderful! We’re going to use the red-yellow-green system, which basically means that anyone can ask for or say a color at any time. Green is obviously ‘go ahead’, while yellow means ‘slow down’ or ‘careful’, and red ‘stop’. Not only Norway can use those colors! Norway, if in any event you’re unable to talk, we assume that you can use your magic?”  
   
He nodded again.  
   
“Denmark and Iceland gave us a very informative briefing, though,” Australia chuckled. “I think we'll be good.”  
   
Norway barely repressed the urge to groan. A _briefing_? He supposed it was for the best, but still.  
   
“Nevertheless, I’ve got a fairly important question,” Australia continued. “Condoms?”  
   
“No risk of STDs – or pregnancy – but could get messy,” Turkey mused. “What’s Norway think, huh?”  
   
Norway liked it messy when he had sex. And anyway, part of the fantasy was to be as dirty as it possibly could. So he replied, “If no one minds, then no condoms.”  
   
No one seemed to mind, because they all stayed as they were.  
   
“Well, Romania,” Iceland said, “would you do the honors?”  
   
Romania pushed himself off the couch with a smirk.  
   
“Gladly.”  
   
Everything went black.  
 

* * *

    
Norway came back to the world of the living rather abruptly. He was lying down now, stomach-down on cool, fresh sheets, _completely fucking naked_. He bit his lip and tried to blink the remnants of Romania's magic away, but there was only darkness to find. He shifted his head, cushioned comfortably, a little. A blindfold.  
   
“There he is,” he heard Romania say, and then the bed dipped next to his stomach; cool fingers touched his back. Norway tried to turn around, but that was when he realized that his arms were restrained, shackled by the wrists and tied to – he tugged – probably the bed’s headboard. An unexpected wave of arousal crashed over him when he realized that he was completely at the mercy of these people, and he bit his lip to stop himself from groaning. The fingers traveled up his back. Norway became acutely aware of all the sounds in the room; his own breathing, the creaking of the bed, a vague murmuring that sounded a lot like Denmark. Fuck, he’d never felt like this before, so completely helpless but knowing that he was ultimately in charge of the whole thing. He loved it.  
   
The person that the fingers belonged to moved in the direction of Norway’s legs. A second set of fingers dragged itself down his back, and then hands curled around his hips. He shivered.  
   
“Up,” came Iceland’s whispered voice, and the hands hoisted Norway’s hips up. Another wave of arousal shot through his body at the sound; his cock was well on its way to hard.  
   
Norway scrambled to his knees and elbows, and Iceland hummed in satisfaction, squeezing his hips. His thumbs pressed down on Norway’s ass, holding his cheeks apart. How must this _look_ , Norway thought. Himself, completely exposed, and Iceland – was he still wearing clothes, or was he naked as well? He didn’t know which option sounded better.  
   
Iceland moved between his brother’s spread knees, and Norway heard someone gasp. He was amused for a second, but then he abruptly jerked his wrists against their restraints, because Iceland put his tongue against his hole, hot and wet and so fucking _sinful_. His toes curled and he cut off a moan. Iceland hummed against him, tongue pointed and running around the rim of his hole. He moved slow, as he always did. Glacier-pace, Denmark liked to say. Norway tried to push back against him, but Iceland’s hands were firmly keeping him in place.  
                                                                                                                                                    
Iceland pulled back a little, breath still hot on Norway’s ass, and murmured, “I’m going to open you up, nice and slow...” He gave a lick again, and Norway pulled at his cuffs. “And then I’m going to watch while all these people fuck you, _brother_.”  
   
“Didn’t know he had it in ‘im,” Turkey said, very far away, and Denmark told him he’d be surprised.  
   
“Color, Nore?” Iceland asked, as he ran a finger down between Norway’s ass cheeks. He probably knew – Norway couldn’t imagine that Iceland had suddenly lost the ability to read him.  
   
“ _Green_.” He was surprised at how wrecked his voice sounded already.  
   
“Good.” The finger breached him. It was slick, and just this side of too cold, making him shiver, especially after how hot Iceland’s mouth had been. Norway shut his eyes tightly behind the blindfold and he bit his lip. He wished he could see Iceland now, because he knew how beautiful he looked when he was like this. He hoped everyone else was looking very closely.  
   
_Everyone else_ , holy fuck. Norway stifled a moan into the pillow – he recognized the scent of Denmark’s hair gel on it, which was strangely comforting and arousing at the same time. Iceland pumped his finger torturously slowly in and out of him. The thumb of his other hand was stroking circles on his lower back. Then he pulled the finger out, and his tongue returned, working its way inside. Norway clenched his fingers into the sheets. Fuck, he loved and he hated this. It was not enough and far too much at the same time. Iceland always knew how to keep him on edge, and he definitely wasn’t lying when he said _slow_.  
   
Two – probably two – fingers eased their way inside, curving gently. They stretched Norway’s hole open, and then a small puff of cold air into it had Norway jerking back, pulling at his restraints and biting back a curse. Iceland chuckled vaguely. His tongue returned once more.  
   
He continued like that for what seemed like hours – working Norway open with his fingers and his tongue, never saying a word – until Norway, who was never a loud person, but especially not in bed, was whimpering and moaning into the pillow. He felt like he might burst if Iceland didn't fuck him anytime soon. Or start begging, he didn’t know which would be worse.  
   
Eventually, _finally_ , Iceland pulled his fingers out, and his warmth at Norway’s back receded a little.  
   
“Yes,” he breathed into the pillow. Iceland hummed, running his hands up, then down Norway's sides and over his ass like he was surveying his work.  
   
“Very good,” Iceland said, sounding proud of a job well done. And then he _disappeared_. The mattress sprang back to its original shape, and Norway was left like that for a long moment, ass in the air, cock leaking against his belly, breathing heavily against the pillow. Then the mattress dipped again, on both his sides this time. Someone slid the blindfold from his eyes, while the other person untied his wrists from the headboard. He wanted to twist them, but they were pulled and tied behind his back instead, pulling him into a more upright position in the process. He blinked, trying to get a clear view of the world.  
   
“Ya thought he was gonna fuck ya, didn’t ya?” Turkey, on his right, leaning down to speak directly into Norway’s ear. “Ya thought your little brother was gonna fuck ya like the slut that y’are.”  
   
Someone cursed, and Norway tried to turn his face into the pillow, but Turkey grabbed a fistful of his hair and held him up. Soft, small fingers ran over his arms. Belgium?  
                                                                                                                                                    
Turkey turned Norway’s face in his direction. He was naked, tan skin contrasting starkly against the white sheets. Norway couldn’t help but flick his eyes to the man’s cock, and Turkey chuckled.  
   
“Eager, ain’t ya? Ya wanna suck my cock.” He leaned even more forward, his breath ghosting across Norway’s cheek. “Want me to shove it between those pretty lips o’yours and force it down your throat ‘til ya choke.” He dragged one callused thumb over Norway’s lower lip, who made an embarrassing sound in his throat.  
   
A small hand pushed at his ass, and then Belgium’s voice sounded, amused, “In a minute, Turkey.”  
   
Turkey grinned and let go of Norway’s hair. Norway pushed his forehead into the pillow, trying to contain his breathing.  
   
“Ya know what she’s gonna do, boy?” Turkey’s fingers pressed down on his neck. “Hey, answer me when I ask ya somethin’.”  
   
“No,” Norway answered, muffled.  
   
“She’s gonna fuck your little ass with a vibrator, and you’re gonna love it ‘cause that's how much of a fuckin’ whore y’are for it.”  
   
Norway jerked against his restraints, desperate to get some friction against his cock. Fucking hell, he was no stranger to dirty talk, but people usually didn’t call him a whore – that was another level entirely. He was surprised and a little mortified at how much he loved it.  
   
“Yes,” he breathed, unable to help himself.  
   
Turkey pulled his hair. “I didn’t ask ya nothin’.”  
   
He bit his lip.  
   
Something slick and cold nudged against his perineum, then slid up to his hole.  
   
“Hm, you’re such a nice little slut, lettin’ this beautiful woman dominate ya. Ya think ya can come like that, just from her fuckin’ your ass? I bet ya can.”  
   
“God, Turkey,” Belgium said. “Let up for a second!”  
   
Turkey snickered. “Am I gettin’ you hot and bothered too, hm? Didn’t peg ya for the submissive type.”  
   
“You’re right about that.” The tip of what must be the vibrator breached Norway. It wasn’t vibrating. “I’m more of the pegging type.”  
   
In one swift stroke, she pushed the vibrator into Norway. He made a choked-up noise at the intrusion. It didn’t hurt – Iceland had made very sure it wouldn’t – but he felt so _full_ all of a sudden. The toy was cold and hard against his insides. Belgium slowly began pulling it back out. Smaller and then wider and then smaller again, it stretched Norway open. When only the tip was inside, she pushed back, fast again. Norway clenched his fingers in the air, trying to rock back but finding that that was very hard in this position.  
   
On the next stroke in, the vibrator turned on, and then Belgium held it there, pressed deep inside him. Norway muffled a curse into Denmark’s pillow, and Turkey yanked his head up by his hair.  
   
“What was that, boy?”  
   
“ _Fuck_ ,” Norway repeated. He still had the presence of mind to be mildly embarrassed at the state of his voice, barely more than a whimper.  
   
“As you wish,” Belgium said, shallowly thrusting with the vibrator. Norway whimpered. It was still not enough.  
   
“Ya should see yourself, ya little slut. We’ve barely started and you're a fuckin’ mess already.” Turkey pushed him more upright, into a kneeling position. His face was very close, and his voice was low when he asked, “Hey, ‘s it okay if I kiss ya?”  
   
Norway nodded fervently, and Turkey grinned and mashed their lips together. He wound his fingers into Norway’s hair, but didn’t otherwise touch him, not a hint of friction against his cock. Belgium pressed herself against Norway’s back, hands on his hips, breasts against his upper arms. Turkey pulled away from Norway with a wet sound and looked at her appraisingly, then leaned over Norway’s shoulder to press a kiss to her lips as well.  
   
“Don’t say it,” Iceland suddenly said. His voice sounded strained. Norway tried to turn his head to look, but didn’t get very far before Turkey’s fingers in his hair stopped him.  
   
“How did you—” Denmark started.  
   
“You’re so predictable.”  
   
“Turkey sandwich!” Australia exclaimed. Turkey dropped his head on Norway’s shoulder and Belgium chuckled, reaching around to pat his arm.  
   
Then she turned the vibrator up, and Norway arched his back as a wave of heated arousal crashed over him. Frustratingly, even this provided no contact with his cock. He panted, wriggling his hips. Fuck, he _wanted_ —  
   
Turkey’s thumb ran over his lower lip again, and he hummed, then said, “Let’s put that mouth o’yours to better use.”  
   
A bit of maneuvering later, they had Norway between Turkey’s legs, able to bend down and reach his erection without putting too much strain on his legs or back. Belgium was still holding the vibrator inside him – heat was spreading from there throughout his body.  
   
Turkey gathered up his hair, and Norway looked at him.  
   
“Color?”  
   
“ _Green_.”  
   
“Perfect. Then let’s see what ya can do with those pretty lips.”  
   
Norway leaned down to put his mouth around Turkey’s considerable girth. He sucked at the head of his cock for a while, tracing around it with the tip of his tongue, but then Turkey pressed down on his head just a bit, and Belgium simultaneously turned the vibrator up again. Norway’s whole body twitched. He made a muffled sound around Turkey’s cock.  
   
“Come on, ya slut, ‘s that all ya got?”  
   
He came up for air, then went down again, as far as he could – Turkey’s cock hitting the back of his throat. He heard the man curse, and if he hadn’t had his mouth full, he would’ve smirked, because Norway knew this was something he was good at, even when he was tied up and someone had a fucking _vibrator_ up his ass. Someone else cursed too, he wasn’t sure who.  
   
Something shifted, and suddenly the vibrator was vibrating merrily against his prostate. Norway shot up, seeing white and gasping for air like a drowning man. Fuck, _fuck_ , maybe he _would_ come like this, completely untouched. Belgium ran a hand down his right arm, then relentlessly turned the vibrating setting even higher.  
   
“Fuck!” Norway cursed loudly.  
   
“You do love it,” Belgium said, sounding like she had just discovered something really interesting.  
   
“He does,” Turkey replied, even as he tugged Norway’s hair to pull him back to his cock. “Don’t ya, boy?”  
   
“ _Yes_ ,” Norway managed to choke out, before his lips met the head of Turkey’s cock again, and he wrapped them around it automatically, probably confirming Turkey calling him a slut. He didn’t go so deep now, afraid of choking himself, and Turkey didn’t push him either. He did wrap his own fingers around his cock, stroking what Norway couldn’t quite reach, and he also kept talking, calling him a whore and telling him how dirty he looked, but Norway was only half-aware of there being anything outside the feeling on the border of pleasure and pain that was building in his body and the tangy taste of Turkey on his tongue. He was going to come untouched, he was sure of it now.  
   
Belgium apparently decided to have fun with the different settings of the vibrator, turning it up, then down, even completely off. Norway was getting sloppier with his blowjob by the second, his jaw was starting to hurt and saliva was escaping from the corners of his mouth. He must look like a mess, he thought disjointedly.  
   
Turkey’s fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him up. Norway looked up at him, panting, and the man swore, then came, splattering come on Norway’s chin and between his parted lips. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Turkey’s leg. As if she had been waiting for this – and she probably had been –, Belgium turned the vibrator all the way up and began pumping it in and out of his ass fast. Norway gasped for breath.  
   
“Ya want to come, don’t ya?” Turkey slurred, stroking his fingers through Norway’s hair.  
   
“Yes, _fuck_ ,” Norway panted. God, they better let him come. He was seriously going to attack someone if they didn’t, restraints or not. They couldn’t do anything against his magic anyway.  
   
“Well, come then,” Belgium said, pressing the vibrator against his prostate with immaculate aim.  
   
Norway shot up and came undone with a scream that was half a swear and half an unintelligible sound. Fuck, and that hurt and felt absolutely amazing at the same time.  
   
Belgium didn’t let up for a second, keeping the vibrator inside even after Norway was spent. He made a choked-up sound again, trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation. While it was true that nations had a faster recovery time than humans, it wasn’t that instant, especially not after such an intense orgasm. He felt tears start to well up in his eyes; it was beginning to hurt.  
   
Finally, Belgium had mercy on him. She carefully pulled the vibrator out, leaving Norway feeling empty and clenching down on nothing.  
   
Gently, she untied his hands, and he finally twisted his wrists. They cracked satisfyingly. He wiped at his chin.  
   
“You’re such a good boy,” Turkey said, sitting up and taking Norway’s face in his large hands, swiping his thumbs through the mess of drool and come. “Such a good little slut. I think ya deserve a reward.”  
   
Iceland appeared in his field of vision. He looked very hot and bothered, and Norway felt a vague sense of accomplishment.  
   
“Here, drink,” he said, holding a water bottle out to him. Norway took it gratefully. When he handed the water bottle back to his brother, it was half-empty. He felt sweaty and sated, yet he knew that there were more people – how many again? – waiting to do things to him, to _use_ him. He felt arousal starting to stir again at the thought. The benefits of nationhood.  
   
Iceland disappeared again, and finally Norway looked over his shoulder to the five people scattered on pillows around the room. They were all naked, some utterly unashamed – Australia and Denmark – and some a little more guarded still – Hong Kong – but they were all still there, which he guessed was a good sign. Australia waved at him, then heaved himself up from his perch next to Romania and walked over to the bed. He sat down on the edge of it, casually, as if he just wanted to talk.  
   
“Do you mind, mate?” he asked Turkey, who graciously inclined his head and clambered off the mattress on the other side. He really was good-looking, but then so was Australia, all golden skin and lean lines. Belgium tucked Norway’s ruined hair behind his ear in a strangely motherly gesture, then disappeared as well. Norway belatedly realized that she hadn’t gotten off, probably, but he had no chance to do anything about that, because Australia hooked a finger under his chin, forcing Norway to look at him. His skin was very warm.  
   
“You know,” he started conversationally, shifting his legs a little, “when Denmark asked me if I wanted to do this, I was quite surprised. I really don’t know you that well, do I? But, I must admit…” He trailed his index finger slowly from Norway’s chin down over his neck to his chest. “I see the appeal.”  
   
He splayed his hand over Norway’s chest and watched it for a few seconds, rising and falling with Norway’s breath. Then he smiled. “You look tired. I know just the thing.” With a wink, he added, “I’m stronger than I look.”  
   
Before Norway even had the time to look at him quizzically, Australia had stood up and bodily lifted him from the bed as if he weighed _nothing_. Now Norway knew he wasn’t as heavily built as some other people, but – damn. He wrapped his legs around the other man’s waist on instinct, rested his hands on his shoulders, and Australia fit _his_ hands around his ass to hold him up. His cock was nudging between Norway’s buttocks, teasing.  
   
“Holy fuck,” Denmark said, and Norway glanced to his right at him, biting his lip. Denmark held his gaze hotly. He was palming his cock, but as Norway watched, Hong Kong appeared, hesitantly reaching out a hand to trail down his torso and wrap around his erection. Denmark looked away from Norway in surprise.  
   
Australia’s cock pushed against Norway’s hole when he pulled him closer.  
   
“Maybe we should put that blindfold back on?” the southern nation mused, still casual as anything. Norway curled his hands tighter around his shoulders and shook his head. No need, no need. He wanted to see this. See the muscles in Australia’s arms working to hold him up, and maybe he wanted to see the reactions of the other six too.  
   
“Okay,” Australia laughed, and then, “I’m no good at dirty talk, but you are kind of a slut, nah?”  
   
Norway gasped, and Australia chose that moment to lower him down onto his cock. He curled his toes and bit his lip – finally, thank fuck. A vibrator was really no stand-in for a real, flesh-and-blood-and- _heat_ cock. He was almost fully hard again, and his cock was dragging against Australia’s toned stomach, providing just enough friction. His eyes fixed on the far wall, Norway was content to let the other man do the work. And he was going _deep_ , not stopping until he was buried to the hilt in Norway’s ass. Norway had to wrap his legs tighter around his hips.  
   
“Very nice,” Australia commented, still not sounding winded. A sense of insult washed over Norway, and he tried to heave himself up. “Oh, very nice indeed.” Australia shifted his arms, one around Norway’s torso and one supporting his ass, and helped him, dragging his dick out slowly.  
   
It started slow, but before long, they had established a fast rhythm that forced Norway all the way down on Australia’s cock and then almost all the way off. He was completely hard again, dragging wet trails against Australia’s stomach, and by now leaving marks on the man’s shoulders and neck with his fingernails for sure. Australia was panting, still looking handsome, but now also sweaty. Norway had all but forgotten about the other nations in the room, lost in the feeling of so much heat. He tried to rest his face in the crook of Australia’s neck, but the nation caught his lips instead, kissing him messily.  
   
Norway moaned into his mouth and tried to wrap his legs tighter around him. It was getting harder. Slippery.  
   
Australia hid his face in Norway’s shoulder instead, cursing under his breath. The hand on Norway’s ass slipped a little, forcing his cock even further up his ass. A wave of heat crashed over him, and he groaned through clenched teeth.  
   
“You could always sit down,” Belgium offered, somewhere in the background.  
   
“No, I— Fuck,” Australia said. “Shit.”  
   
“I—” Norway started, not sure what he was going to say, but then something shifted, and it was as if he was a lot lighter in Australia’s arms all of a sudden.  
   
“Fair suck of the sav!” Australia said, which – Norway wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but the downwards force was suddenly much greater as well, so he was distracted for a bit by the man’s cock.  
   
“You looked like you needed help,” came Romania’s voice. “And I’m a nice guy.”  
   
Magic. Of course.  
   
“ _Cheers_ ,” Australia choked out. He muffled a curse into Norway’s shoulder again, fingers clenching and unclenching against his back. Norway buried his own hands in the man’s dark hair, elbows on his shoulders.  
   
With Romania’s help, they managed to speed up even more, until Australia’s arms went slipping and sliding to Norway’s shoulder blades and he pushed the nation down on his cock and held him there, cursing through clenched teeth, as he came into his ass, spilling hot inside him. Norway twitched and moaned, trying to rub his cock against his stomach, but Australia stumbled backwards to sink down on Denmark’s bed, panting and dislodging Norway, who fell on his back on the mattress next to him.  
   
Eyes closed, he felt slender hands brush his hair out of his warm face, and he assumed it was Romania, but when he opened his eyes, it was Iceland, hovering over him with a small smile.  
   
“You should have seen yourself, Nore,” he murmured, running his hands slowly down Norway’s arms. “I thought Den was going to choke.” He pressed a kiss to his jaw, then one down on his chest. His thumbs were rubbing circles into the jut of Norway’s hips. Norway bucked up, to no avail. Then he reached up to circle his arms around his brother’s neck, but Iceland straightened before he could get that far, then turned around and disappeared without another word.  
   
“What’s,” Norway started, but then Romania appeared in his field of vision, smiling that distracting, toothy smile of his, and he fell silent. He had to admit, he’d always had a bit of – not a soft spot, but a certain affinity for that smile. It promised danger. Norway liked that.  
   
“Been a while, hm?” Romania asked, clearly not expecting an answer. He put his hands in the same spot where Iceland’s had just been. They were a lot warmer, almost—  
   
“ _Fuck_!” Norway exclaimed when a spike of heat shot through his body, almost painful. He arched off the mattress, but Romania pushed him back down relentlessly and did it again. It was like electricity running through his veins, and he had to restrain his own magic from kicking in to defend itself against the intrusion. He’d never really thought of magic as a sexual thing, but Romania obviously had, if the self-assured way he was pushing waves of it through Norway’s body was any indication. He decided he liked it.  
   
“You look amazing,” Romania murmured, running his hands up Norway’s sides, leaving tingling trails of pleasure-pain in their wake. “You’re, uhm.”  
   
Someone laughed.  
   
“Oh, shut up,” the eastern European nation snapped. “I will curse you.”  
   
Norway made a sound in his throat, trying to recapture Romania’s attention, and the hands pressed down on his chest. Heat fanned out from the spot where Romania was touching him, flowing through his body until every muscle was strung taut, fists balled into the sheets and toes curled. There was a slightly manic gleam in Romania’s coppery eyes as he moved his hands to Norway’s shoulders and pulled him up into a sitting position.  
   
Romania, standing between his knees next to Denmark’s bed, slowly curled his fingers into a fist in front of Norway’s face. Norway gasped for air when the pressure on his chest seemed to increase, cutting off his breath. His heart was hammering against his ribcage. Fuck, that briefing had obviously been _very_ thorough, if they had even heard about his semi-secret choking kink.  
   
Romania uncurled the fist – air exploded into Norway’s lungs, and he fell on his back on the bed, gulping it in. The other nation nudged at his hips, and he clambered further up, until he was completely on the mattress again. Romania crawled up over him.  
   
“Hey, what’s your color?”  
   
“Green. Green,” Norway gasped. Romania smirked and leaned down, and Norway thought he was going to kiss him, but instead – _fuck_ , of course, the biting thing, he should have remembered – he bit down on his collarbone, hard enough that it would definitely leave a mark. Norway cursed, hand flying up to bury in the man’s hair, but it didn’t get very far before an invisible force pinned it back down on the mattress, unable to move.  
   
A sharp spark shot through him again. Norway threw his head back, screwing his eyes shut against the heat. Romania wound his hand tightly into his hair and bit down on his neck before soothing the spot with his tongue. It ran hot up his neck, his jaw, and then to his mouth, where Romania captured his lower lip between his teeth. Arching his back, Norway groaned deeply. He shifted his feet to push his hips up, searching for friction and finding it in the form of Romania’s – hip, probably. He couldn’t hold back a pathetic whimper and heard the other man chuckle. Then he moved his hands to Norway’s sides, and down to his hips, removing the friction in the process. Norway opened his eyes to look at him.  
   
Romania pushed at his knees; hooked Norway’s legs over his shoulders. They locked gazes for a few seconds, and then Romania smirked and reached down to push his cock into Norway swiftly. Because he couldn’t move his arms, pinned down by invisible restraints as they were, Norway arched his back into the contact. Romania gripped his hips, pulling his ass off the mattress a little. He didn’t start slow, immediately setting a punishing pace that had Norway panting in no time, pressing his head into the pillow.  
   
“Fuck,” he whimpered, and then his breath cut off again. He stared at the headboard, unseeing, as he tried desperately to get some air into his lungs, arching his back and trying to move his arms. It was like he was pressed down by an enormous, invisible weight and – why wasn’t his own magic doing anything? He wasn’t consciously holding it back.  
   
The air returned in a rush just as black spots were starting to appear in his vision, flooding him with relief and a sharp sting of arousal. He cursed breathlessly, and Romania echoed it. He didn’t stop pounding into Norway, folding his legs over his chest, restricting his breath even now. Nails scratched over his ribcage. Norway wrapped his legs around Romania’s neck, pulling him even closer. His cock was sliding against the man’s stomach.  
   
“Come on, come on,” Romania grit out. Norway wasn’t sure if he meant himself or not, but he didn’t really care. He wanted to move his arms, he wanted to touch Romania, and he wanted to _come_ , but none of those things was happening, so he just bucked up and relished in the feeling of Romania’s cock filling him, pounding into him with abandon, and the feeling of – more magic, tingling through his nerves like electricity. He was definitely going to try this on someone later, fucking hell.  
   
Suddenly, Romania slowed down a little. Norway glanced up when he felt the mattress dip on his right side to find Iceland kneeling on the bed. He ran a finger lightly over Norway’s arm, up over his shoulder and then down his side. Romania leaned backwards a little, allowing Iceland to reach for Norway’s erection and slide his hand around it. Norway breathed out his brother’s name, trying again, and to no avail, to move his arms. So he just watched Iceland, pale skin flushed, smile at Romania vaguely. His hand around Norway cock was warm, and so welcome – until it slid down to the base, and something clenched around him.  
   
“God fucking— _Iceland_!”  
   
Iceland didn’t even look at him, instead leaning over to kiss Romania, who craned his neck eagerly. He was still moving inside Norway, shallow thrusts into his ass.  
   
The mattress dipped on his left side too, and he turned to look.  
   
Denmark, with a healthy flush down his chest and his cock straining against his stomach, shuffled over to him. On instinct, Norway wanted to reach out touch him, but he found his arms still restrained. He cursed heartily, and Romania chuckled, then sped his thrusts up again. Iceland’s hand appeared, winding into Denmark’s hair and dragging him over to Norway. Their mouths met in the middle, over Norway’s heaving chest, Iceland’s hands roaming over Denmark’s neck and shoulders, Denmark cupping his hands around Iceland’s face and tilting his head.  
   
When the kiss broke, Iceland shuffled backwards and disappeared again, leaving Denmark to look down at Norway with a smile somewhere between lecherous and positively adoring – a combination, no doubt, that only he could pull off.  
   
Romania hit his prostate, and Norway cried out, eyes clenching shut. His arms suddenly sprang free of their magical confines, his left smacking Denmark on the back inadvertently.  
   
“Hey, careful,” the Dane said. Romania’s nails scratched over Norway’s chest again.  
   
“Fuck you,” he panted, more out of habit than anything else.  
   
“Maybe if you ask nicely. Ya know, that thing isn’t coming off until ya beg for it, Nor.” When Norway opened his eyes to look at him, Denmark was looking at Romania, opening his mouth to ask, “Just how much stamina do ya _have_ , man?”  
   
Romania laughed breathlessly. “It’s almost like it’s magic, isn’t it?”  
   
Understanding dawned on Denmark’s face. “Well then. Can ya use some of that to turn him over?”  
   
“Most certainly,” Romania answered. Norway wanted to punch both of them in the face for having such a casual conversation while he was so aroused it hurt – and Romania still had his dick up his ass, for fuck’s sake. He tried reaching for his magic, but he never quite got around to it, because Romania took Denmark’s request to heart, and Norway was flipped over like a pancake, landing on his hands and knees.  
   
“Thanks,” Denmark said absentmindedly, pushing his fingers through Norway’s sweaty hair. Norway looked up at him from underneath his lashes.  
   
“Denmark, hey,” Romania panted. His thrusts were slower again, which Norway was grateful for. “Even magic doesn’t last forever, man. If you have plans, I’d like you to execute them now.”  
   
“Fair enough.” He gripped Norway’s hair at the back of his head and leaned over him, tilting his head back. “I wanna fuck your mouth, Nor. I wanna see ya choke on my dick while Romania pounds into ya from behind. You’ll look amazing. I can just see it.”  
   
Norway subconsciously pushed back against Romania, who dug his nails in the skin of his hips.  
   
“C’mon, open up,” Denmark said, and Norway opened his mouth obediently. There was a soft curse from Denmark, and then the man’s cock, sliding over his lips first, then pushing between them. Norway made a whining sound low in his throat. Denmark stroked his fingers over his neck and shoulders in a way that was nearly reverent – like Norway was something beautiful that should be cherished and protected, and he didn’t want that right now. Right now, he wanted to be used, so he pushed forward, off of Romania and onto Denmark, bracing one hand on the latter’s thigh. The Dane cursed again, then pulled Norway off by his hair.  
   
“I set the pace here, understood?”  
   
“Mhn,” Norway mumbled in response.  
   
“Good. Open.”  
   
So Denmark pushed his cock into Norway’s mouth again, though not before slipping it obscenely over his lips, spreading precum messily. He pushed deep, forcing his cock – which was thinner than Turkey’s, but did not lack in length – against the back of Norway’s throat. Norway clutched at the man’s leg.  
   
When he pulled out, Romania pushed back in, dragging Norway his way a little, hips hitting buttocks. His fingers had to be leaving marks on Norway’s skin. Norway moaned around Denmark.  
   
Denmark. Romania. Denmark, Romania-Denmark-Romania— Until it was a blur of being shoved back and forth, of nearly gagging and infuriating waves of pleasure-cum-pain that never _got anywhere_. He’d never been this frustrated before. Norway was going to _strangle_ his brother, god fucking—  
   
Romania and Denmark both pushed into him, and Romania finally came, silently, scraping his nails over his sides again.  
   
Norway tried to pull away from Denmark to gulp in much-needed breath when he was filled again, but Denmark pushed at the back of his head, holding him down on his cock. Air running out, he clawed at the other nation’s legs, until he finally let up, at the same time that Romania pulled out, leaving Norway feeling bereft and gasping. He coughed a couple times.  
   
Denmark stroked a hand over his shoulder, murmuring, “You’re so good at this, Nor. You’re fuckin’ amazing, ya know that?”  
   
Norway whimpered. He just wanted to _come_. He tried rubbing himself against the sheets, but that didn’t do anything except frustrate him further.  
   
“Not until you beg, Nore,” Iceland said from his right side, having the gall to sound amused. The water bottle appeared in front of his face again, and he took it gratefully, drinking while Iceland’s finger trailed down his side, slipped between his ass cheeks and easily into his hole.  
   
“You’re so loose,” he mumbled, his other hand tangling with Denmark’s on his shoulder. Norway whimpered again, crumpling the now empty water bottle in his fist. “And there’s still four of us, brother.”  
   
Norway was not going to beg, no matter what they threw at him. He might be fucked out, but he still had standards to live up to. There wasn’t anything that prevented him from resting his forehead on his arms and trying to rock back against Iceland’s finger, though, so he did that. Iceland, of course, pulled the finger back.  
   
“I don’t like you a whole lot right now,” Norway mumbled. Denmark roughly pulled him up by his hair.  
   
“What was that?”  
   
“I don’t like ya guys a lot,” Norway repeated.  
   
“Oh, don't ya?”  
   
Iceland pushed two fingers into Norway’s mouth, pressing down on his tongue. Norway looked up at him defiantly.  
   
“Hey,” Turkey called out. “Can I take a picture? Seriously, man.”  
   
“Sure ya can!” Denmark replied cheerily. His hand was around his own erection, jerking lazily.  
   
“No, you can't,” Iceland said, not taking his eyes off Norway. “Just try to remember.”  
   
Norway sucked on his fingers, running his tongue along their length. His cock was still hard, but the feeling of it had morphed into a buzz in the back of his mind. Iceland’s eyelids fluttered, and he pulled his fingers out. After rubbing all the fingers of his left hand over Norway’s chin, he clambered backwards and disappeared once again. What was with that?  
   
“It’s just you ‘n me now, Nor,” Denmark said.  
   
“Sorry to disappoint, Den, but that’s not true,” Belgium’s voice came from behind Norway. Her hand landed on his lower back.  
   
“Who said anything about bein’ disappointed?”  
   
She laughed. The hand ran over Norway’s ass softly, almost soothingly, before it retreated and came back down with a stinging slap. Norway made a surprised sound while his entire body jerked.  
   
“Color?” Belgium demanded.  
   
“Green,” Norway replied. Definitely green. His body was apparently starting to have trouble differentiating between pleasure and pain, the sting of Belgium’s hand and the throbbing of his cock all coming together in a mess of sensation, but he found that he liked it a lot. No doubt someone could say something very intelligent about him always being so control of himself and now releasing that control to other people, but that didn’t matter.  
   
Belgium brought her hand down on his ass again – a sting of burning arousal through his belly – , and he heard Denmark curse under his breath.  
   
“What do you think, Denmark? Should I fuck him, or do you think it’s your turn?”  
   
“Damn,” Denmark said, “I really want to.”  
   
“Be my guest.” Belgium accompanied the _invitation for Denmark to fuck Norway_ , god damn, with another slap.  
   
Some shuffling around followed, and then Norway was looking up at Belgium. The first thing he noticed was that she was wearing _lipstick_ , bright red and absolutely immaculate. There was a flush on her face, though, spreading down her neck and her chest. She smiled sweetly at him.  
   
Denmark nudged against his hole, and Norway bit his lip as he pushed in with little resistance, groaning.  
   
“Ever the drama queen,” Belgium remarked. An image of Belgium and Denmark having sex flashed through Norway’s mind, accompanied by a wave of arousal. Denmark _was_ kind of a drama queen, she was right about that, but Norway could live with that if it meant that things like this happened sometimes.  
   
Denmark thrust slowly but deeply, seemingly not in a hurry to come. His hands were roaming over Norway’s back, over Romania’s marks.  
   
“Let’s see if you’re as good with women as you are with men, hm?” Belgium asked, sliding her fingers around Norway’s jaw and chin to pull his face up. “God, you’re pretty.”  
   
Most of the time, Norway resented being called pretty. Pretty was bows and ribbons and fluff, and he had lived through centuries of wars and turmoil – he was not _pretty_. But the way Belgium said it, on the edge of condescending and genuine, sparked something in him that had him dropping his head without prompting, sliding his hands over her firm, pale thighs and pulling her folds apart to flick his tongue over her clit. She put a hand on his head in silent encouragement.  
   
The pace of Denmark’s thrusts didn’t change at all, and Norway couldn’t help but wonder what he was planning. There was usually a certain amount of franticness involved.  
   
He pushed his tongue against Belgium, sucked and rubbed at her clit, intent on showing the nation that, yes, he was as good with women as he was with men. She moaned when he pushed the tip of his tongue into her, hand pressing down on his head. Denmark dragged his hands over Norway’s chest, each pinching a nipple.  
   
“Can I take a picture of _this_?” Turkey asked, and Iceland replied that he could shut up.  
   
Belgium’s snicker morphed into a moan halfway through, when Norway flicked his thumb over her clit.  
   
“Bet ya you’re even wetter than her, Nor,” Denmark said, now kneading his ass. “Should I come inside ya as well, hm? Fill ya up even more? Would ya like that?”  
   
Since Norway’s mouth was otherwise occupied, he couldn’t answer, but then again, he doubted Denmark was expecting him to. He just groaned instead, which earned him another moan from Belgium. She was pressing his face against her crotch now, with a surprising lot of power.  
   
They continued like that for a while, rhythm slow, and though Norway was still aching with how hard he was, it wasn’t so urgent now.  
   
But then Denmark pulled his cock out, and Belgium grabbed Norway’s hair to haul him up. She was even more flushed now, and breathing heavily.  
   
Denmark pushed at Norway’s hip, and it took him a few seconds to snap from his daze, but then he took the hint and flipped onto his back. Belgium ran her fingers over his warm cheek.  
   
 “Now for something different,” she said, crawling over to Denmark, who kissed her on the lips, staining his own red.  
   
“Something different?” Norway asked. Fuck, his voice was still so raspy. He’d probably feel his throat for a while.  
   
An enigmatic red smile from Belgium, and then she swung one leg over Norway’s hips.  
   
Oh, _fuck_. Fuck, no, with the goddamn cock ring still on! He clenched his fingers in the sheets in anticipation.  
   
Belgium gave no warning before reaching for Norway’s aching cock and guiding it into herself, all heat and wetness and too much fucking _pressure_ around him. He whined. Denmark settled his hands on her hips and looked at him over her shoulder.  
   
She started to move her hips in tight circles, and Norway had to gasp for breath. Belgium was leaning back against Denmark, no other points of contact with Norway. The man moved his hands over hips and her stomach, cupped her breasts and kissed her neck – all while keeping his eyes firmly on Norway.  
   
“Oh, fuck,” Norway cursed when Belgium lifted herself almost completely off his cock, although it came out sounding like a sob more than an actual word.  
   
“C’mon, Nor, y’know what ya need to do if ya wanna come,” Denmark said.  
   
“ _Fuck off_ ,” he panted back. Belgium laughed breathlessly and pushed back down. Denmark reached down to press his long fingers against her as she rocked her hips. Norway squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to relieve some of the ache in his body.  
   
Belgium sped up steadily. Norway bucked into her desperately – he _needed_ to come, he felt like he was going to explode, but he didn’t want to beg.  
   
She clenched down on him.  
   
“Fuck, _fuck_!”  
   
“Yes,” Belgium breathed in response.  
   
The tingling of an oncoming orgasm intensified in his belly. He arched his back, trying despite better knowledge to get relief.  
   
“Norge, attention!”  
   
He opened his eyes to seek out Denmark’s face. He jerked his chin in a clear signal for Norway to sit up, so he did, pushing himself up with his left hand. Belgium gripped his right wrist and dragged the hand to her clit. His fingers tangled with Denmark’s clumsily, and she put her hands on his shoulders, giving herself even more leverage to bounce up and down on his cock.  
   
“ _No_ , you can’t,” Iceland said, long-suffering, and Turkey sighed regretfully. Norway felt like laughing and crying at the same time.  
   
Belgium kept her pace steady now. Norway could barely move his hand, but Denmark did most of the work for him, so he didn’t think she minded. He tilted his head back, listening to her gentle moaning. It wasn’t long before she became sloppier, hands clenching nearly painfully on his shoulders.  
   
Norway cursed at the ceiling. The heat spreading through his nerves was almost unbearable.  
   
Belgium came with a cry; her inner walls tightened even more around Norway’s cock, throbbing with heat. She rested her forehead on his shoulder as she rode it out. Norway whined low in his throat. God, it _hurt_. He really was going to strangle Iceland when this was over and done with.  
   
Very slowly, Belgium pulled herself off of him. His cock was red with how hard it was – it amazed him he hadn’t come despite the cock ring yet. Those things weren’t _that_ — He glanced suspiciously at Romania, who appeared to be unconscious, collapsed on Australia’s legs. The look didn’t last long, because Denmark relentlessly shoved him to his back and pushed his cock into him again. A choked-up cry escaped Norway’s lips.  
   
“Den, fuck,” he panted. “No, I can’t—”  
   
“Yes, y’can.” His thrusts were sharp and fast, shoving him up the bed.  
   
“No, I—” He arched his back, breath coming in short gasps.  
   
Denmark pushed his thumb against his cockhead.  
   
“ _Please_! Please, fuck, just let me come,” Norway gasped, throwing his head back. “Den— Denmark, I’m beggin’, fuck, are ya happy?”  
   
“What’s that?”  
   
“Den, please, I just— I need to. God, _please_.” There were actual tears in his eyes, threatening to spill. Denmark didn’t slow down, but he did run his fingers very calmly down his cock, and—  
   
Norway came almost instantly, yelling out wordlessly when immense relief flooded him, setting his feet on the mattress to arch his whole body up. He stained his own stomach with come, and probably some other things too, but he didn’t care about anything beyond the heat shooting through his body, now once again clearly pleasure. Vaguely, he heard Denmark curse, his cock still inside Norway, who was clenching down on it tightly.  
   
When it was over, he fell back, feeling utterly wrung out and blissful. And yet, and yet…  
                                                                                                                                                    
He opened his eyes to look at Denmark, who had an awestruck expression on his face.  
   
“That was amazing,” the Danish nation proclaimed. He reached out to push Norway’s sweaty hair out of his face. “You’re amazin’, Nor.”  
   
Norway wanted to reply that he knew, but he only succeeded in producing a vague mumbling. Denmark grinned widely. His cock shifted inside Norway. It felt weird now that he’d come, intrusive, so he was glad when the Dane pulled out.  
   
Denmark crawled over to his side, pushed at his shoulders until he sat up, and bracketed him with his legs. Norway leaned back against his chest – sticking together like it was midsummer. It was kind of gross.  
   
“Okay,” Denmark murmured, “I’m gonna need ya to be honest here. Can I fuck ya?”  
   
“I. Yes. Green.” He could get hard again; it would take a few minutes, but that wasn’t an issue.  
   
“Okay. Reverse cowgirl, Nor. Go!”  
   
He resisted the urge to sigh very deeply.  
   
Denmark lay down. Norway placed his feet outside his knees, braced his hands on the man’s legs and tried to— His movements were sluggish, uncoordinated. It wouldn’t work.  
   
Movement in the corner of his eye. Hong Kong was standing up from his pillow and walking over to the bed. He was lanky, but not skinny, like Norway had been vaguely thinking.  
   
“You look like you need a hand,” he said. His eyebrows were moving comically, but Norway didn’t know him well enough to say what emotion they were expressing. Hong Kong’s words filtered through after a second.  
   
“Right,” he replied eloquently.  
   
“Right,” Hong Kong repeated. His eyebrows were definitely amused now. “Well then.” He hopped on the bed and shuffled over to the two Nordic nations. A hum sounded from Denmark when he reached behind Norway.  
   
Hong Kong’s other hand pushed at Norway’s hips until his ass reached Denmark’s cock. Then, more hands – Norway couldn’t quite distinguish which were whose anymore, but they pushed Denmark’s erection against his abused hole, then inside slowly. He closed his eyes against the sensation. Being filled when he already came – twice – and was not yet hard again was something he loved and hated. It felt weird, intrusive, but also more intimate, in a way. He could feel everything; not dulled by arousal, his senses worked overtime.  
   
Denmark was completely sheathed inside him; he was for all intents and purposes sitting on his lap. That thought triggered a fantasy about sitting on someone’s dick in a public place, and arousal started creeping up again. Damn, that would be hot. Maybe Iceland could—  
   
Hong Kong pushed him down on Denmark’s chest, his hand staying on Norway’s torso and then slowly running down to his cock while Denmark started thrusting into him slowly. Norway bit his lip to stifle a moan when the hand curled around his cock.  
   
“So,” Hong Kong said, and Norway opened his eyes to look at him, but he was looking down, “I don’t suppose you’ve ever tried to, like, make a living out of this? You totally could, you know.” He caught Norway’s eye boldly. “Just whoring yourself out, letting people use you, day in day out. You’d love it.”  
   
“Holy shit,” Denmark mumbled, which was pretty much exactly what Norway was thinking, and then, “Hong Kong, what the hell? Not complainin’, but where did that come from?”  
   
He smiled plaintively. “I am part English, you know.”  
   
“Can we not talk about England?” Australia asked.  
   
“I second that,” Romania said, still sounding muffled.  
   
Hong Kong raised an eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise react. He kept moving his hand slowly around Norway’s cock. It wasn’t getting hard yet, but the arousal was definitely coming. Maybe if he talked more?  
   
“How long have you been imagining this, Norway? Iceland told me it’d been a long time. Did you imagine the whole world shoving you around? Did you get off on it?” He twisted his wrist sharply, and Norway twitched. Denmark’s fingers were digging into his hips. “Did you put your fingers in your ass and pretend it was America? The Netherlands? Poland? _Russia_? Did you ever pretend it was me?”  
   
Norway whimpered. Hong Kong pushed at his left leg, exposing him even more. His cock was filling up – fuck, he would never be able to look at Hong Kong the same way.  
   
“ _Did_ you, pretend it was me?”  
   
“I, no, never just—”  
   
“Never just me? I thought so.”  
   
A finger nudged against the edge of Norway’s hole. Denmark slowed down, then stopped altogether.  
   
“Who am I to, like, ruin your fantasies?” The finger pushed inside him alongside Denmark’s cock, not meeting all too much resistance. Belgium and Australia had stretched him out. Norway still bit his lip hard, breathing sharply through his nose.  
   
Hong Kong looked backwards. “I need more— Oh, thanks.” Norway couldn’t see what just happened, but he heard Romania mumble a reply. Hong Kong pulled his one finger out, but it returned a moment later, now slick and cold. A second followed quickly, stretching Norway open. He tried to relax his muscles.  
   
“Look at you,” Hong Kong said, “you beautiful whore. You should see yourself, Norway. You should totally see how this looks. You already have a cock up your ass, and you’re just taking my fingers like it’s nothing.”  
   
He was definitely hard now, his erection flopping against his belly. Denmark was whispering curses into his ear – that man never could be quiet.  
   
Hong Kong moved his fingers slowly. Denmark’s breathing became heavier.  
   
After a while, Hong Kong started moving his fingers a little faster, then slower again, pulling out and then pushing three back in. Norway furrowed his brows, trying to concentrate on Denmark instead of the stretch. It didn’t hurt a lot, but he wouldn’t exactly call it pleasant either. The discomfort lasted a few moments, until Denmark effectively distracted him by getting a hand around his cock and jerking gently.  
   
Hong Kong sped up slowly but steadily, quiet for now. Denmark murmured expletive-laden encouragements in Norway’s ear.  
   
Then Hong Kong pulled his fingers out again, and Norway tried not to clench up in anticipation. Instead of the warm touch of fingers, though, he felt something cold press against his ass. He looked up at Hong Kong, who raised an eyebrow and pushed a little. The tip of whatever it was slipped inside. Denmark gasped. Norway groaned.  
   
It pressed a little further. Norway bit his lip, until he was pretty sure he tasted blood.  
   
“You’ll be fine,” Denmark whispered. “Ya will be fuckin’ fine, Nor.” He cut himself off with a gasp – largely unhelpful, as ever.  
   
Norway tried to steady his breathing, but he couldn’t help the short gasps. The thing inside him was stretching him, stretching too far at once, he couldn’t—  
   
“ _Yellow_ ,” he gasped, and Hong Kong stilled.  
   
“Do you want me to pull out?” he asked.  
   
“No, no, I just— I need to breathe, I—”  
   
“Ice, you’re up,” Denmark said. The words had barely left his mouth before Iceland appeared in Norway’s field of vision, hovering over him with a calm face.  
   
“I’m way ahead of you,” he smiled, and then, to Norway, “You can do it, Nore. I know you can. Just listen to my voice, okay?”  
   
Norway nodded minutely.  
   
“Very good.” A hand combed through his messy hair. “Relax. You can take it. It won’t hurt at all if you relax, so can you do that?”  
   
“Mhn,” he replied. He’d never quite noticed how nice Iceland’s voice was. Strange.  
   
“No one wants to hurt you.”  
   
He knew that. But he didn’t say that, instead concentrating on his brother’s hand in his hair, rubbing soothing circles into his scalp, and let his voice wash over him. He wasn’t even sure what Iceland was saying, but it was nice.  
   
“Nore? Hey.”  
   
“Hm?” Norway looked up, unsure how much time had passed. Iceland was smiling.  
   
“You alright?”  
   
“Yeah.” Who thought of this? Norway liked whomever it was.  
   
“Can Hong Kong try to move again?”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“Okay. I’m gonna go. If you need me, just give a yell.”  
   
“Thank you,” Norway croaked. Iceland disappeared and Hong Kong cautiously moved the whatever-it-was inside Norway.  
   
It didn’t hurt.  
   
Very slowly, Hong Kong worked the thing in and out of him, until Denmark was positively whimpering and Norway was panting and trying to rock back against it.  
   
“You’re so eager,” Hong Kong observed, sounding amused. “Both of you, really. This feels nice, you know. To have these two former Vikings at my mercy... I could totally get used to this.”  
   
“C’mon, HK,” Denmark said impatiently, bucking his hips up. Norway twitched.  
   
“Okay, okay.” He pulled the toy out and pushed four fingers in, then out. “Okay,” he repeated. “Norway, are you ready? Color?”  
   
“Green. ‘M ready.”  
   
Hong Kong pushed his cock into him at a torturously slow pace, stretching and filling him – but no, it didn’t hurt. It just felt so _unbelievably_ full and hot inside him. Norway could hardly imagine how this looked to everyone else, how _filthy_. Maybe Turkey could take a picture for him. He almost laughed at that disjointed thought. Hong Kong came to a halt, then, and Denmark moved a little. Both of them gasped, their cocks sliding against each other inside Norway.  
   
Movement was restricted in a position like this, but they managed to find a rhythm, Denmark bucking his hips up in short thrusts and Hong Kong moving slower, with Norway trying to hold on and rock back every once in a while. It wasn’t even the actual sensation of having two people inside him at once that was so arousing – it was more the idea of it. Fuck, Hong Kong and Turkey were so right. He was totally a slut, but he loved it and couldn’t give a damn. He just rocked his body, bracing hands and feet on wrinkled sheets and relishing in the sounds the other nations made.  
   
Before long, Denmark’s movements became snappish. He bucked further up, forcing his cock up Norway’s ass – Norway breathed in sharply at the sting of aroused pain – and his fingers were clenching aimlessly on Norway’s hips.  
   
“Fuck, I’m—” he started, and then he shut up and came with a whispered curse, like it was completely unexpected.  
   
Norway moaned deeply when he felt him spill inside. Hong Kong faltered for a second, but then resumed his thrusting with renewed vigor. He was leaning over Norway, hair falling in his face. Denmark cursed some more and carefully pulled himself out of Norway, who could swear he felt come running out of his hole, hot down his leg. He forced himself further down on Hong Kong.  
   
“Oh my god, you whore,” the Asian nation said through clenched teeth, still managing to sound surprised. His thrusts were fast. Norway grinned manically.  
   
Then, all of a sudden, Hong Kong was coming, opening his eyes comically wide and adding to the mess inside Norway. His eyes fluttered shut when it was over, and he pulled out and sat back, putting his head in his hands. Norway rolled off of Denmark, who was staring at the ceiling. The three of them stayed like that for a while, but then Iceland showed up next to the bed. He smiled at Norway, who tried to smile back. Fuck, he felt so empty and so full at the same time.  
   
Hong Kong and Denmark took the hint when Iceland hopped on the mattress and leaned down to kiss Norway’s sweaty forehead, then his cheek and finally his lips. They left, and Iceland shuffled both of them further up again. Norway had a vague thought about Denmark having to buy a new mattress, which was immediately followed by a thought about their most recent trip to IKEA, and he did _not_ want to think about that, so he concentrated on Iceland instead, winding his arms around his neck and arching his body up to him.  
   
“Nore,” his brother murmured against his lips, “I’m so proud of you.”  
   
In any other situation, Norway would have scoffed at that – he was the older one, after all – but it felt kind of nice now. So he groaned vaguely in reply. Iceland smiled and sat back, gazing at him. His fingers were cold on Norway’s hip, trailing down his thigh. They slipped into him easily, and Norway moaned softly.  
   
“Yeah,” Iceland breathed. “I’m the last one, you know that? I get to fuck you like this, all wrung out and— You’re filled up, Nore. God.” His voice was soft, ensuring that Norway was the only who heard him. His fingers moved through the mess of come inside him. Norway put his feet on the mattress, bending his knees to make it easier for Iceland, who smiled again and put his free hand on Norway’s right thigh, running it up and down slowly.  
   
“Mh,” Norway said eloquently. He really wanted to have Iceland inside him, but the island nation smiled down at his legs enigmatically and only moved his fingers a little. Norway propped himself up on his elbows. “Ice?”  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“What’re ya doing?”  
   
“What do you think I’m doing?”  
   
“Think you’re teasin’ me, ’s what I think.”  
   
“Well, you really didn’t need to ask me in that case.”  
   
Norway dropped his head back and groaned. Iceland pressed his fingers – how many fingers, anyway? Three? – deeper into him, brushing over his prostate. He suddenly remembered that he had wanted to strangle Iceland earlier, and the thought seemed very appealing again at the moment.  
   
“Ice, come on,” he groaned, looking back up, but Iceland didn’t even reply. “ _Please_.”  
   
He did glance up now, seemingly surprised. Norway didn’t care anymore. He’d already begged to come, once more wouldn’t hurt. Iceland raised his eyebrows and sighed, quasi-exasperated, then wriggled his left hand underneath Norway’s knee and pushed it up.  
   
“You do know my weak points, don’t you?” he asked as he shuffled closer. Norway smiled. “But,” Iceland continued, lining himself up with Norway’s hole, “I know yours as well, _brother_.” He pushed in, and Norway gasped and dropped his head back again. So fucking true; Iceland calling him brother was a major weak spot, almost guaranteed to get him to do anything he wanted.  
   
His movements continued to be agonizingly slow, and nothing seemed to indicate him speeding up anytime soon, so Norway decided to just lie back and take it, as a reprieve of sorts.  
   
Iceland put his hands on whatever part of Norway he could reach, running over his legs, up and down his sides and across his shoulders. Norway reached up to drag him down by the neck. He pressed their mouths together – Iceland moved slowly in this as well, tongue tangling leisurely with Norway’s as he thrust into him.  
   
After a small eternity of this, Iceland reached down to circle his fingers around Norway’s cock, loosely. Norway moaned into his mouth. This was so different from the urgency of before, but it wasn’t any less in intensity. It was just – slow. Arousal spread through his entire body, from his toes to his poor lips, bitten to bleeding. He wasn’t biting them now. Iceland’s own lips were hot against them, and he was sucking on his tongue, and still thrusting into him, and it was amazing. He buried his hands in his brother’s hair.  
   
“Come on, Nore,” Iceland mumbled against his lips. He circled his fingers a little tighter around him. There was the vague sound of Turkey saying something again. He didn’t listen, or care.  
   
He was so warm. It felt safe, which was nice after the harshness of everyone else. Not that he had ever felt genuinely unsafe, but, still—  
   
A spike of heat shot through him when Iceland brushed against his prostate, and he felt him quirk a smile. He tried to clench down on Iceland’s cock in return, but wasn’t sure if he succeeded, what with how loose he was.  
   
A while longer; more heat, gathering, coiling, and Iceland mouthing at his jaw and his neck and jerking his cock and then he was coming. Not as harshly as before, but he was coming nonetheless, moaning and spilling over his brother’s hand and now definitely clenching down on him. Iceland groaned, buried his forehead in Norway’s shoulder, and followed suit.  
   
“Fuck,” he whispered, and Norway smiled blearily at the ceiling. It was a good day when he got Iceland to swear.  
   
They stayed that way for a long moment, Iceland bent over him, shallowly moving his hips, but then the island nation slowly untangled himself and sat back, pulling out of Norway in the process. A hand remained on Norway's hip, warm and reassuring. Turkey appeared behind him, then, leaning over to offer Norway another bottle of water wordlessly. He drank some water and handed the bottle to Iceland when he was done.  
   
“That’s all, folks,” Romania vaguely mumbled from somewhere, and Hong Kong told him to shut up. Norway got the feeling there was a friendship in the making there. Huh, unforeseen side effects. He pushed himself up – felt come definitely trickle out of him when he did, which was really fucking hot – and looked around. Australia waved again. Iceland retracted his hand gently, stroking Norway's leg.  
   
“Well,” Denmark said with a grin. “You ask, we deliver, and all that. Nor, are ya satisfied?”  
   
“I—” He cleared his throat. That hurt. “Yes, I am. Thank you.”  
   
“I kinda got the feelin’ we oughta be thankin’ _you_ ,” Turkey responded, “but hey, no problem!”  
   
“What now?” Romania asked.  
   
Norway ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “I, for one, am gonna have a bath and probably sleep for a week, if ya don’t mind.”  
   
“Don’t blame ya,” Denmark laughed. “Anyone up for Chinese?”  
   
“Uhm,” Hong Kong said.  
   
“I mean, like. Ya know what I mean! I’m hungry, man!”  
   
Belgium raised her hand. “I’m hungry.”  
   
“I don’t want Chinese, I’m tired,” Romania complained.  
   
Norway started shuffling off Denmark’s bed, leaving the other nations to their own devices. He felt honored that they had gone so long without fighting for him, and he definitely had questions for Iceland and Denmark later – because he seriously wanted to know how they got them in on this, not in the least Hong Kong, but right now he felt filthy and sated and wanted to be a man of his word and take a bath, and after that he’d see what would happen.  
   
“Hey, Nore,” Iceland said, and he turned around. “Try not to drown.”  
   
“I’ll be fine. Leave some food for me.”  
   
Iceland nodded, and Norway left the room, hobbling a little.  
   
Yes, today was a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> It would be fun to do it the other way around; pick a song title and then write something inspired by that. Or by the actual song, of course.


End file.
